


My Heart is Elsewhere

by Saku777



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Historical Hetalia, and a tiny allusion to prussia, mentions of Poland, mentions of lithuania and ukraine too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 15:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saku777/pseuds/Saku777
Summary: Once again she was subject to the desires of a power greater than her own, but it was no longer Poland utrather her brother Russia and his beautiful queen, taking apart Poland's holdings they had torn from him. That meant her, the eastern most part dotted with flowers as blue as her eyes and growing flax as fair as her hair. What can she do but comply and give in to the whims of those who are greater than her in the eyes of the world? Nonetheless her heart remains hidden among her people and the cool forests, fields and swamps they reside in..





	1. Chapter 1

Everything had been a mess lately, but she had no say in it, nor was she heavily involved and had not been for quite some time. She lately had seen Poland as the source of all of her miseries. He was the reason she had to speak Polish, he was the reason she no longer felt she had any say in anything, and he was the reason the entire region was in chaos, for she had seen it all begin long before Russia ever seemed to be a factor.

Yet things were not so simple, for retreating to the peasantry was not a thing that made her miserable. Rather, she felt happy in the fields and forests even through hardships. She felt most connected and most herself there. She may have only been ‘the Local’ to her people, but at least they seemed to sense she was neither Polish nor Baltic, she was something else that she herself had no name for yet either. She was not inclined to think much of it yet, there were too many things going on. 

There was also the fact that she did not hate the Catholic faith. She at least, was allowed to celebrate it in a eastern way, and she was happy for the fact that she, unlike many other women in her era(though she was not a woman) had gotten an education from the Jesuits. So Poland had not been a wholly negative force.

However she was angry, tired, and in heavy pain from all the chaos and this clouded her judgment. She was also still filled with resentment that her place in the Duchy had been lost after Poland’s arrival but that was neither here nor there. She clencned her fits and punched the ground and in a slight moment of clarity she remembered that Russia had gotten involved in Poland and Lithuania’s affairs long before this, but even now she did not know if this was good or bad for her. She had learned long ago she was not the master of her own fate.

Either way, she reflected, she was trapped and had been so since Lithuania had taken over Polotsk. Perhaps, in the end, it was all his fault. As she mused on this she heard footsteps coming behind her and heard them crushing the grass underneath. She knew who it was for no human had that feeling that he gave, that any nation gave. 

It had not been the first time she had been under Russia’s rule and she wondered how long it would last this time. She could never be sure of anything in this world really, she had to take what she was given. The previous time, in the previous century, it had only been for four years but Poland had been stronger then and in the end he had snatched her back like a little doll. Still, she knew that Russia always looked westward despite setbacks like those. 

She turned her head towards the sound and saw him standing there, strong and proud and tall, and filled with power. He was dressed well, looking just like a cultured man from St Petersburg and for a moment she wondered if it had been far too long since they had seen one another. She also suddenly felt rather small, not simply because she was dressed in the loose red and white frock of a simple peasant, which was visually not as grand as the things the ladies wore in St Petersburg and Moscow, even with its right red embroidery. Instead she felt small because she felt his power, the might of his strength, his tsars, and all the land he possessed.   
Meanwhile she had nothing, she barely had a people it seemed sometimes, and they made no proud claims to land or made any loud declarations of their existence. They seemed merely content to live out their lives in the countryside and therefore so was she. This kept her young and from growing into more than a small slip of a teenage girl, but as long as they survived it was enough.

It also occurred to her that he had changed even in such a short time, he was no longer the same boy she last saw in the 1600’s. So much had happened and yet in a way she had hardly changed at all unlike him. She felt lost and even a little sad. 

He gazed down his nose at her silently for a time, then went up and said, “It has been so long, hasn’t it? Ah,” he paused, he was unsure of what to call her. Would Natalya be too cold? Was Natasha too familiar? Was even Natalya too familiar? And what was her real name? Was it Ruthenia or something else? He searched and searched his mind but found he did not know or could no longer remember. “What was your name again?” 

The question cut her like an icy wind blowing through her heart, but her face remained impassive despite the hint of pain and disappointment in her flax blue eyes. This felt so strange and wrong, it should not be, they should not be this way. She concluded that it was all Poland’s fault. Perhaps she was too Polish now. She was silent for a little while more and then said, “Some call me ‘the Local’ others have said Ruthenia. You may do whatever suits you Russia.’’ 

“Then Natalya,” he said. If she didn’t have a proper name there was nothing he could do about it after all. She wondered what this meant and if it was good or bad, truly she didn’t know. In that moment a small trickle of blood fell down her arm and he saw the bright red drops against her porcelain skin. “Ah,” and it was then she noticed it. Her blouse was not stained on account of its looseness but she was still worried for it was one of her favourites. 

Almost on impulse she took it off, revealing a loose white chemise underneath and unfortunately for Russia she did it so quickly he couldn’t avert his eyes. “”Natalya must you do that?” 

“But Vanya what if my blouse gets ruined, its so pretty it’d be a damn shame if it did,’ she said switching to his diminutive. He looked at it on the ground and privately concluded it was.The he saw the blood was coming from a relatively fresh wound on her upper arm. He pondered about what to do and then decided it would be best fixed in the post-chase, at least he had some wrappings there. 

‘’I suppose so, we’ll deal with it soon enough,” he sighed. Then he began walking away while saying, “Come along, everything has been completed and so I’ve been sent to fetch you.” She stood up, grass and straw littering her hair which was dotted with a few flowers she had haphazardly put in there as well. “Sent? By who?” 

“‘By the Tsarina Catherine of course. She wishes to see you, she’s already seen your sister.” She followed after him, but couldn’t help but be disappointed. Did not Russia wish to see her himself? Then she wondered if she was wrong for feeling this, and then she figured that none of it really mattered after all. No one would take account as to how she felt so there was no point. He turned his head to see if she was following after and then sighed once more.“You look a mess with your hair loose and littered like that, almost like a rusalka.” 

“You still know them! And I undid my stupid plait to just play around with my hair, I’ll put it back now, I promise.” Her coarse language surprised him slightly as most women he knew didn’t speak that way. Then he remembered Hungary and hoped she was not so spirited, then again she was also a rustic peasant so he supposed her lack of refinement and manners made sense.

“No, we’ll simply fix it when we get there.” They both continued walking and she wondered where ‘there’ was, but said nothing again. They passed fields and forests grown lush by the summer sun which was starting to fade. She knew that the partitions were now in place and new governors had been appointed earlier, she had suffered through it all, but until now Russia had not seen her. She wondered if it was because of Poland and how until recently he had been difficult and stubborn. He had always been so proud and willful, it was annoying and it must have occupied Russia. 

As to her own thoughts she was unsure if she even wanted to be with Russia, the time left alone after she fled from both Poland and Lithuania had not been enough time to figure things out, but she certainly no longer wanted to be ruled over by Poland. She then wondered what had become of Lithuania and if he was with Russia now or if he was still by Poland’s side. Her heart gave a slight pang, but she attempted to stifle it.

As she was musing on all this they came to a post-chase waiting for them on an earthen road. “Where the hell are we going?” she asked.

Russia opened the door and waited for her to get in, saying, “We’ll pass though Piter and arrive at Tsarskoe Selo where the tsarina is staying. It’s too soon for her to move into the Winter Palace. It’s smaller too, so perhaps you might like it.” 

She got in, wondering what that statement meant, but at the same time she felt terribly curious as well. It wasn’t like she didn’t know culture, but she had never been to St Petersburg before or to Tsarskoe Selo. She had heard stories of how it had been constructed though, of the bones lying underneath the city, it’s artificiality. She heard how it was also filled with ghosts and spirits walking the steers and staring forlornly into the Neva for eternity as its waters flowed by. She had heard of its palaces and how it was the window to the west and when she recalled all these whispers she had heard during her time in Poland’s court her heart thrilled and was filled with excitement. 

This excitement was interrupted when Russia began harshly and tightly wrapping her wounds, but she dared not protest. She simply sat there, even if it was too tight and almost hurt. It was alright, he was only trying to help, is what she said to herself. “Your Russian is rusty,” and as he said that there was a bitterness in his voice that made her heart jump with how obvious it was. “It truly is annoying, how much Poland corrupted you. We’ll have to fix that.”

She was a little frightened but merely said, “ I suppose so, I hate that fucker too.” Then she quietly put her shirt on and gazed out the window as she heard the noise of the horses as they began pulling the post-chase along. The journey was a long and arduous, taking several days before they reached their destination. Days and nights passed and she spent the time looking outside at the passing surroundings or sleeping. Occasionally she spoke to Russia but their conversations were stilltered and sometimes awkward and she wondered if she was the wrong one or he was. He had grown so western, so cultured, so erudite, and so sophisticated that it almost made her a little embarrassed. Peter had changed him so much and perhaps the others had as well. Was he still the same peasant boy of her childhood, was he still even the same boy of the 1600s? 

Then again perhaps he had a point as well, perhaps she was all wrong and Poland had ruined her, making her too Polish and too western herself. After all she had been forced to speak Polish whenever she was around him, she was Catholic now too and not Orthodox as she had been long ago, and she had been educated by the Jesuits. Maybe she had been ruined, maybe it was her that was at fault and needed to be fixed. She didn’t know and therefore confusion reigned in her head. “Will our sister be there?” She asked after Russia told her they were very close to St Petersburg.

“Not today, perhaps you shall see her later but Tsarina Catherine told me that today she wanted to meet you alone.” She wondered what Catherine was like, she had heard she was beautiful, intelligent, and that she came from Prussia. She supposed the latter didn’t matter to Russia anymore now, clearly he saw her as his and his alone and that made her think about herself. 

She knew for ages she had belonged to Poland and Lithuania and now she belonged to Russia. She pushed Lithuania from her mind, she didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t know how he made her feel and that frustrated her heavily. It served him right, after what he had done to her, to have this happen to him, she thought to herself. Yet despite that she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow in her heart at possibly no longer being able to see him and wondered if he had been happy under Poland or if he had felt just as stifled as she had. 

It didn’t matter now and she didn’t care what became of Poland either. He was still free after all so he was no longer her problem, all this was his fault she again repeated to herself. She felt a heavy nudge on her arm at that moment and Russia’s voice interrupted her from the void of her thoughts. “You’ve been staring at nothing for several minutes. I do hope you’re not ill. It wouldn’t do to disappoint Catherine or to keep her waiting.” 

Startled, she exclaimed, “Fuck, what? I mean I’m not! I’m fine Vanya, truly I am. I was just lost in thought that’s all. I..I was curious about how St Petersburg is.’’ 

Russia tapped the glass, “Well look outside, you no longer have to wonder. We’ve just arrived in Piter.” Night was falling but not yet present as they arrived in St Petersburg and despite the dying light she attempted to catch a glimpse of the city. Luckily for her there was still enough light to make out the buildings and to see the people milling despite the growing twilight, for night had its own appeal and there were things best done under cover of darkness in St Petersburg as in all cities. She could make out the white and yellow of the European buildings, in cheerful yet vain imitation of the sun whose beauty and warmth they could never hope to grasp. She saw the towering churches, reaching up into the sky as if they were pleading to God himself to have mercy on the sinful souls of the city as they walked heedless of the dead underneath. 

“Russia, it’s getting dark, but I want to see more,” she said.

Russia opened his eyes since he had begun to doze as she looked outside. “Ah, you’re right. What a pity. I shall show you tomorrow then, if I’m not occupied by other matters that is and if I receive Catherine’s permission.” They passed the dank dark river Neva as it swirled underneath hiding secrets within it’s watery depths. 

As they did she squinted and thought she saw several shades, passing by to and fro as if they were haunted by the memories and emotions of their past lives, forced to repeat them over and over without ceasing. She wondered about them and came to the conclusion that they probably were. She also wondered who they had been, what their lives were like, and what kept them anchored to this world. She had lived ages and ages and seen a mass of human suffering and supposed it could be any number of things. 

The last shade she saw as they left St Petersburg for Tsarskoe Selo was that of a young girl, perhaps only ten, or if she was older she had been terribly malnourished in life. As they left her dead eyes stared right at her without blinking and she watched them as they left the city and she receeded far into the dusk. She watched back as well, she had no fear of such things and in fact was a little delighted her brother still held such secrets. He was not wholly lost to the west perhaps.

The journey to Tsarskoe Selo and the Catherine Palace was uneventful after that, the only thing that transpired was the coming of the moon and the stars which lit up the night around them with a pale dim light. Despite all this however she continued looking out the window, trying to peer through the darkness and take up every aspect of her surroundings. For a moment she thought once more of Lithuania, and she bit her hand roughly until it bled a little to make herself stop. Russia didn’t notice. 

Soon enough, they reached the palace and she saw its looming figure in the moonlight. She supposed she would have to ask to see the outside once more in the daytime and that there was no use complaining about it further. Despite the gloom and darkness however she could see the palace was large and imposing. She had been around large palaces like that every so often, however she had none she could call her own and this was another reminder of Russia’s strength and power. Perhaps he intended it to be so. 

They soon passed a large gate that she would find out was made of great gilded gold in the daylight. For now the only gold in the blue darkness was the pinpricks of sickly yellow light coming from the palace windows peering at her like eyes across a vast distance. “Is it too late to see her?” she asked.

Russia looked outside and shook his head, “No, Catherine is probably still awake. It is too late to be made presentable though.” He glanced at her as he said this and then went on, “However perhaps Catherine may not mind. I suppose she might like a say in what your dress shall be.” Russia knew she had a hand in what his own dress was and even in the very fabric he wore and their colors. 

His sister meanwhile remained impassive but her hands clenched the sides of her skirts, gathering up its fabric in them. She didn’t want to change her dress, she loved her folk clothing and thought it beautiful with its white and red decorations, and simple red embroidery and checks. However in a way she was not so surprised, few people cared about the dress of her ordinary folk and she always had to dress up in more stiff western clothing when she went into Poland and Lithuania court back when she had lived with them. Some eras of fancy dress were no so bad and were quite comfortable and beautiful, but others left much to be desired. 

She never told Poland her feelings on this, but had merely glared venomously at him knowing it was useless to resist. She was slightly more lenient towards Lithuania, but she also saw him as Poland’s enabler and as time passed the two grew apart as Poland’s influence grew. Yet even at their separation if heavily pressed and forced to tell the truth she might of admitted that even then he was close to her in a strange sort of way, maybe not friends but something else she had no word for. But he was in the past, and it was best not to dwell in the past for it would never return.


	2. Chapter 2

The post-chase came to a sudden halt, they had finally arrived and she started to feel a little sick with nerves which made her clutch her dress even more. Her heart felt sick too. This was not where she should be, not where her heart lay, not where her people, nameless as they were like her, lay. No, she should be home. This was not her home, but there was no looking back now. 

She got out of the post-chase and followed Russia to the palace where they were greeted by the guards. “Ah Ivan Rurikovich and…?” They peered owlishy at his sister, both out of curiosity at seeing someone there clad so simply and at her beauty which had always been ethereal and unworldly.

“Natalya Rurikovna, my sister. The tsarina wishes to meet her,” Russia said. She silently thought to herself that her patronymic was Vseslavovna but said nothing aloud.

“Yes she mentioned you’d be arriving sometime soon, but she failed to mention your guest. Still its’ a pleasant surprise, right this way,” the head guard said as he lead them both in. Her hair was still a mess, but she truly did not care nor notice. Instead once she was inside she peered at all the grand surroundings of the Catherine Palace, her tiny fists still clutching her skirts all the meanwhile.

The guard continued to lead them onward through the palace and they passed the golden gilded halls and luxurious rooms decorated with brightly colored paintings that seemed almost as vivid as life itself.

She thought it was beautiful and loved looking at it all, but another part of her considered it all a vanity and wondered what the point was since all would pass away in the end. She wondered if Russia was truly happy here, but did not want to ask. Instead she listened to the hollow echo of their footsteps upon the exquisite and pristine marble floors and wondered when they would finally reach the tsarina. Despite all its beauty she thought it was simply all too much. 

Just as she thought this they stopped, and peeking out behind Russia’s large form she beheld a beautiful woman staring before them at a desk looking over some papers and books. She had a mass of dark raven colored hair and her skin was as fair and as delicate as porcelain with rosy cheeks which popped out from the rest of her face. She was clad in a large silver dress with blue sash and trim. Her skirts were large, surrounding her like the ocean surrounds the world, and her waist still small, for Catherine had yet not aged at that time. 

Little did she know that Catherine wore that to both awe and intimidate the being she was expecting. She may of been not human but Catherine had decided she would never let Russia’s sister forget she was only a peasant. She certainly did make quite the impression on her, for she sensed that there was something about this woman that was special.

Not only did she posses a air of regal charm and confidence but there was a look in her eye and an air about her which she sensed. It seemed to her, that Catherine had a gift of the supernatural about or connected to her, but she was unsure if Catherine or Russia even knew about this themselves. City beings, she noticed, tended to forget they were connected to the forces of the earth, air, and the world around them, not to mention the things that existed beyond the confines of the world.

“Vanya you’ve finally arrived. Good,” she said in French which Russia’s sister didn’t fully understand, then she switched to Russian and as she did looked at the being before her. “And who is this pretty little thing? One of the western territories we reclaimed after so long?” She thought Catherine’s choice of words curious, for the tsarina had not been alive last time Russia had so much territory and in any case she had never been under Russia for long either. 

Then again perhaps she was mistaken, or perhaps Russia’s claim to be the ruler of all the Rus lands had merit. Her earliest memories were foggy and for humans truth was a shifting and ever changing thing. At least she seemed nice and polite, asking after her when she didn’t have to. Catherine on the other hand knew exactly what she was doing, for a she was canny and intelligent woman and every single one of her words had weight. It had to be so to survive in Russia.

“My apologies for keeping you Catherine, this is Natalya my sister. She represents the peasants in the western part of our new lands. Once upon a time she was called Polotsk.” Russia stepped aside and took not-Polotsk’s hand, leading her towards Catherine. 

Once she stood right before the tsarina she did a small curtsy and Catherine smiled at her. “And what a lovely thing too, it’s a pity we’ve never met earlier but now that’s been amended. Vanya, it’s such a crime that you’ve been kept from your lovely family. A crime we’ve at last fixed.” She once again turned her attention to the girl before her. “You should be happy Natasha, you’re no longer under the rule of that barbarous Poland but finally under the rule of an enlightened and fair nation. Tell me, can you speak French?”

She shook her head and said, “No, but I understand a few words of that shit...not enough to understand all of it.” Russia nervously fiddled with his fingers behind Catherine at hearing his sister’s vulgarity, but Catherine after taking one more look at her gave a loud and rather amused laugh. 

“This is why I love peasants, always so honest. I also appreciate a girl with no artifice as well.” Russia sighed in relief and then Catherine continued to speak, “I know night has fallen but Natasha, tell me what you think of the palace and I want to see that honesty again. Don’t be frightened.” And as she spoke she picked out a piece of straw from her flaxen hair and tossed it aside airily. 

“Hmmpf, I suppose it’s beautiful. It shall leave an impression upon my heart and soul forever but there’s so much damn gold,” she muttered. 

Catherine nodded, “Gaudy yes? I thought so too, that’s why when I commission additions to be built here and at the Winter Palace I shall make the rule of tasteful not wasteful. It seems we think alike my dear. One can show refinement without making a fool of one’s self, and part of culture is knowing when to exercise restraint. I do love how you loved the art though, art is never wasteful but always good for edifying the soul.”

She indeed had thought the art beautiful and that it spoke a truth of life, a mirror to reflect reality but before she could say anymore more about it Catherine spoke again, this time to Russia. “Vanya, before you and Natasha arrived here I had an idea and after meeting her this idea has further attached itself in my mind.”

“What is this idea? “ Russia asked. 

Catherine smiled, “I want to build a new kind of person and I’m convinced that the best way this can be done is though culture and education. I’ve made progress with yourself Vanya, but I want to see what I can do with Natasha as well.” Catherine considered her more of a blank canvas to work on as well as an enigma. She didn’t really understand what she represented and it baffled her. She wanted to figure this out, but of course being overt would not do.

Meanwhile Catherine’s proposal both intrigued and made Russia’s sister nervous, but most of all she was tired and she wanted to go back home to her swamps and villages. She was tired of palaces and gold and artifice. Unfortunately she would not get her wish as of yet. 

“My proposal is to keep Natasha here for a week to get to know her and to educate her a little on things she doesn’t know, like French. After that she’ll go back home for a time until I send for her once more. It shouldn't take so long next time either since I know you can travel quickly within your lands and she belongs to you now. I was thinking I might send for her again once winter starts for a few months, but I was unsure. I’ll inform you Vanya once I fully decide.” 

”Yes of course Catherine,” Russia said, reddening slightly once Catherine walked closer to them both. Neither paid any real attention to the small girl next to them or asked her what she thought of all this, but she did not expect anything different. She merely stood there silently. 

Then Catherine looked at her once more with her penetrating deep blue eyes as Russia held her arm, squeezing it a little too tight. “She’s such a slight thing, she has a grace about her that’s wonderfully natural. That gives me an idea that I shall announce tomorrow. Now, Vanya-” she said as she batted her eyes. “Be a dear and take her to the servant’s quarters where she’ll stay. The maids will help her get ready for bed and show her to her room. My idea of a new kind of being will start bright and early tomorrow, oh and tell them to draw a bath for her tomorrow too. I want that straw out of her hair as picturesque as it is. After she’s all settled meet me in my chambers.”

Russia blushed a little more as he said, “Of course Catherine.” Then he turned to his sister and said, “Come along Natalya,” and he pulled her arm which he had not let go of. She simply followed along without protest or struggle. They once again walked along gilded and painted halls and this time she attempted to take a closer look at the paintings that dotted them. 

They were quite beautiful and skillfully done and she wondered when and how Catherine had acquired them, or if the rulers before her had done so instead. They almost felt like windows to another world. She wondered what was going through the minds and souls of the painters as they worked their craft and laid down living color making life into art and capturing a moment, thought, or feeling upon canvas to be gazed on by all till the canvas itself rotted away. She peered at painted humans and wondered what those models were doing now or even if they were still alive, humans tended to be so fragile. Then she glanced at painted landscapes and wondered if they were even real. Finally she glanced at painted animals, knowing they were ignorant at the fact that they were remembered and looked at long after their souls had departed this world . 

She was so wrapped up in contemplating the paintings that before she knew it they had arrived to the servants quarters where two maids awaited her. She noted that even they were dressed luxuriously compared to her, but despite her small insecurities she still loved her simple and plain dress. It was cute, comfortable, and got the job done. She turned to Russia and looked up at him, asking, “Will you be going now Vanya?” 

Russia nodded, “I’m afraid so, but you’ll be quite alright. You’re to sleep here, but you’ll have your own room at least. The maids will simply help you get adjusted since the three of you are in the same class. Make sure you get your rest too since Catherine mentioned she wants to see you right away tomorrow.”

She nodded and said, “I shall Vanya.” However before she could say goodnight he was gone and she felt both a little smaller and larger after his departure. She didn't like to see how disregarded she was, though she also expected it but being with simple humans made her feel very aware that she was far older and so much more than they were.

The two girls looked at her with a little sense of nervousness, for even if she was only in the slight body of a young girl her eyes betrayed her age and all the hardships she had gone though and she assumed that Russia had informed them of what she was. However even though she was a far different being than they were, as Russia stated, they were also both of the same class and this made things even more awkward. 

Despite this one of the girls finally spoke, her large blue eyes looking at the being before her cautiously, “Miss Natalya Rurikovna? Ivan Rurikovich mentioned what you are, so there’s no need to concern yourself with that. Just follow me, my name is Maria. Polina-” she nodded at the other young girl who had dark hair, “-will draw your bath and get your night clothes ready.”   
There was another silence and she said afterwards, “Ivan Ruickovich said after today you’re to do things on your own like the rest of us…” 

She nodded and said, “I expected nothing less.” She liked doing things on her own anyways, there was a certain sense of satisfaction in getting a job done by oneself and the idea of being catered to and having servants look after one’s every need was still a strange one to her. It simply felt lazy and slothful and she wouldn't stand for such things. 

She then followed Maria to her room. It was simple compared to the other rooms, however despite that it was still beautiful and luxurious. The walls were painted a light green color. There was a mirror, a mahogany vanity, and a cabinet there along with a large drawer for clothing. Along side the left side of the room there was also an empty bookshelf next to a decently sized bed with iron framing.   
“This is your room,” Maria said. “Polina’s room is to the left, and mine is to the right but try not to call us unless it’s truly urgent as our ears are mostly for the tsarina. She will probably assign you your own duties after tomorrow, “ she added almost as if it was an afterthought. “Polina will come fetch you when your bath is ready and drawn.” With that Maria left. 

The bed was lumpy but she did not care, she merely sat on it and waited for Polina to arrive. As she waited she allowed her mind to wander. In another life she may have hoped that she would fare better under Russia than under Poland, but as of now she considered it dangerous and foolish to hope. 

However at the same time there was the fact that they were both eastern slavs, but such strange slavs they were. Russia was so westernized, even speaking French to his Prussian queen. As for herself Poland had changed her forever, even in the short time she had last seen Russia. She knew and spoke Polish fluently, she was Unitate Catholic instead of Orthodox, even her surname was possibly of Polish origin, though she decided to start denying that right then and there at least. She wanted to cast off Poland from her life and never look back. It was his fault she was cast aside, and it was his fault this was now her position in life. This this was now her fate and she supposed it would continue without end until the world fell in some way or another. 

Just then, the door opened and Polina entered. “Natalya Rurikovna? Your bath is ready.” She then silently stood up and followed after her. A hot bath was nice, but it was nothing compared to a banya in either Winter or Summer, and she thought longingly once more of home and her villages. She had accepted her hardscrabble life, so why not leave her and her people be? It was useless to bother her with all these palaces, these were things she pondered but did not dare utter aloud. 

Once they reached the bath she began to undress, not caring if Polina saw or not. Polina, who had helped others bathe, did not seem to care much either though she did stare slightly. Her body was pale white and sickly thin, with scars littered all over and hard rough hands and feet marked by labor and toil. It was that which interested Polina, that this beautiful being had a body that was marked like a old peasant and not the one of a lady.

After she got in the bath she pointed at her clothing, “Put that shit somewhere safe, it’s special to me.” 

Polina was surprised by the first vulgar words she heard Russia’s sister utter but nodded and said, “Then it’s best you take care of it right?” 

Belarus pondered this for a moment then nodded, ”You speak sense. I simply assumed it was not allowed. It’s better to take care of my own shit if I can. I don’t give a damn about being pampered.”

Polina was a little grateful for this, it meant less work for her and that this girl knew her place. “Then I’ll leave you to manage yourself then. Ring if you have an emergency,” she said as she pointed to a bell. She nodded and finally the two parted.

Polina and Maria were pretty girls, she thought, but they would be forever bound to the tsarina as she was bound to the land and whatever nobleman or nation owned her. It was useless to rebel and she wondered why her sister even bothered sometimes. It just made life more difficult for everyone.

However at the same time despite that there was a tiny flame in her that refused to go out and kept her alive during the commonwealth. It was the thing that kept her from happily accepting the demands Poland placed on her and made her resentments against him, and by extension Lithuania, grow and grow. it was the thing that made her know she was different from them and that she was Slavic and not Baltic. Given she was not fully conscious of it she had no idea how it would fare under Russia’s rule. 

Bathed and dressed in a fresh white nightgown she made her solitary way back to her room. A candle was lit and waiting for her and wasting no time she got into the bed and blew it out. At that moment she thought of her home and the domovik who lived in it. She hoped dearly that he knew she had not abandoned him. The last thing she needed was a vengeful and angry spirit and she did not wish to offend him who was so dear to her heart. She hoped too that he was keeping the kikimora in check and as she thought about all this she hated the sterile and western palace with a passion, but before more could come from it she fell asleep and was as one dead all the rest of the night. 

That night she dreamed of home in the west, of flax flowers dotting the golden wheat fields in specks of violet blue the color of her eyes, of dark green trees surrounding her with their fragrant coolness with the leshy’s curious eyes gazing at her from the dusk, of festivals with food and fire and people wearing braids and floral crowns; her people. She felt a vague sense of all of this, of harvesters with work worn hands cutting wheat, picking berries and foraging for herbs and roots, of rusalka gazing at her and braiding her hair, of the tears and joys of her people under a clear blue sky amidst the flat fields and marshes, of her own small and humble home on the outskirts where the domovik kept things clean and the kikimora cackled at her. The stork had not come home that spring, and she remembered it left her with a feeling of foreboding. She remembered all this the first time she woke up to look at the stars and contemplate them all. However when she looked out the window she could only see pitch black darkness


	3. Chapter 3

When she awoke the second time the sun was only just rising and peeking through the window into the room. She got up and was about to leave when Polina walked in holding a basin in one of her arms. “There’s food in the kitchens, go get some before the other servants wake up.” She shuffled down in her bare feet and went right back to her room carrying a bowl of porridge, a hunk of black bread, and a hunk of cheese. By that time Polina was gone and her clothes deposed in the room and so she simply began devouring her simple meal. 

She washed her face and the began getting dressed but had only put on her undergarments before Polina burst in again and said, “The tsarina said she wishes to see you.” 

She was so surprised by this that she blurted out, “Shit but I’m not dressed yet!”

“So now you speak again Miss Silent,” Polina said. “I think she knows and that she doesn’t care. She does such things often to new serfs. You’d better go.” 

She saw no point in arguing about it and made her point clear, “I didn’t think there was any use in saying no I just hasn’t expected this. ” She wondered if Russia would be there too, but decided not to ask. 

“She does such things,” Polina said once more and shoved the rest of her clothing into the other being’s hands. “Now let’s go.” And so they left, Polina leading her to Catherine's bedchamber. In another time and life perhaps Polina might of spoken to her more and perhaps she would of been more curious as to her nature. However Polina had grown to be incurious and to only focus on her work and the task at hand due to her life of hardship and her social class. There was no room for idle questions or curiosity in her life and what was simply was. So she accepted her presence as natural in her life. She was odd, but not for being inhuman but for being so silent, staring off into the distance for no reason whatsoever and from being from such a remote and desolate place, at least it was remote to Polina.

As for her she had no interest whatsoever in Polina and saw no reason to speak out or be inquisitive either. She was intelligent, but like Polina saw no reason to be inquisitive when her questions would ever be satisfied. 

As she followed Polina to Catherine’s room however she saw shades and silent figures lurking in the shadows and saw their dead eyes peer at her before turning aside to mind their own memories and pace to and fro lost in the shadows and depths of time. Russia’s spirits and ghosts, she thought to herself, they did not belong to her. Nevertheless she saw them despite that and wondered who they had been, if Russia missed them, or if he even saw them himself, and what memories and grievances kept them chained to the physical world. She guessed that by Polina’s nonreaction she did not see them, and reflected that humans did tend to be terribly dense and shortsighted as to the realities of the world. She saw dead women, men, and children but recognized no face and none seemed to care for her at all. They were not stopped by any of them and they soon reached Catherine’s bedchamber and entered inside.

Catherine was indeed already up with Russia in the room as well. He was fully dressed but as for Catherine she was still doing her toilet and looking into a mirror as a girl dressed her hair. It was Russia who noticed his sister first and he was rather embarrassed at finding her in her undergarments. She on other other hand did not care much and even being seen wholly naked would have not perturbed her. “Ah Catherine-” Russia said.

Catherine looked up, taking her gaze off of herself, “Oh good you’re here. Stand here and let me get a good look at you. You-” she then said to Russia. “Vanya stay here.’’ Both Russia and his sister obeyed her wordlessly. “Turn around, and then hold your arms up.” She followed this instructions with an impassive face and was merely thankful she had gotten something to eat. “Good, now I’ve had better look at you. What a lovely girl. You may get dressed after I finish here.” She gestured to the girl who continued doing her hair and the went on speaking. “Now tell me this, do you have any skills? Can you cook or make lace or dance or sing? Can you play any instruments?”

“I can do all that shit,” she muttered. “But no piano, I can sew too, but I can’t speak French.” 

Catherine nodded and then asked, “Can you dance ballet?” She shook her head. “You’re such a pretty thing it’d be a waste not to use that while you’re here. So, when I tell you to you shall wash clothing, make lace, sew linen, and repair garments. The other half of the time you shall sing and dance for me. And Vanya? Remember when I stated I wanted to make new kind of being?”

Russia nodded and said, “”Yes Catherine I do. What do you have in mind?” 

Catherine clapped her hands together once as her her eyes shined with enthusiasm and said, “French, ballet, and piano lessons for her! And Natasha?” 

Catherine’s joyful tone shocked her out of her stupor and she didn’t know if she wanted her lessons it or not, nor did it really matter. If she minded, there was nothing she could do but merely comply wordlessly. Protesting was out of the question. “Yes?”

“Tell me a little bit about your life under squalid Poland, then I’ll make the rest of my decisions regarding you once I understand your situation. I’m an intelligent and educated woman and not heartless. I always try to listen to those of your station within reason as long as I myself a treated with respect as well.”

“Of course,” she said.“ I lived in the countryside among m-” she had been about to say ‘my people’ but decided it would be best to avoid that, besides what were her people anyways? “Among the other folk. I only went to that bastard shithole Poland’s court every so often. As time passed I stayed away more and more and by the end I think those shitheads forgot about me. He made me speak Polish whenever he saw me and made me write in Roman letters. I didn’t give a crap about his court though or speaking Polish. I hated it.” She did not add she wanted to speak Ruthenian once more and be among her own people. It was probably not what Catherine wanted to hear. “....You spoke about education, I was educated by Jesuits over there even when I lived more in the countryside.” 

Catherine nodded and asked, “And you’re a Papist yourself, yes?” 

She nodded, “”Ever since the Union of Brest.”

Catherine was deep in thought and finally said, “ I see, for now you’re permitted to remain a Papist, I’m a tolerant woman. You’ll still be educated by Jesuits too. They’re not so backwards at least. Now, tell me about the countryside of the area in which you lived. I presume you’re tied to the provincial serfs there.”

She nodded and felt a sense of deep relief since now at least she could speak of something she loved without reserve. “It’s a beautiful land. There’s many trees and plants and crap like that. It’s very green when things grow and snows a good deal when Winter time comes but I’m used to that bullshit cold, so it’s not much of a problem. Flowers grow in many places but my favourite is the blue flax flower. It’s so practical and useful. White and black storks fly in the sky along with egrets and song birds. Wisents, bears, wolves, and deer roam the forests as well. We have some large towns and smaller villages.” There was a pause and she added with a look at both Catherine and Russia, “But nothing like St Petersburg or Moscow. There are deep blue rivers and thousands of deep blue lakes with secrets hiding underneath. The land is as flat as a bedsheet and swamps make it moist and rich and fresh. I like to dig around in the dirt and find berries and mushrooms and all kinds of good shit. There’s rye fields all golden in the sun and fields made bare in the autumn time. I also grow good things too, berries, roots, apples, and grains. Shit like that.”

The land was her love, it was where her heart dwelt despite the hardships it dealt her, despite how bitterly cold it could get at times, for it’s beauty and it’s people always made her feel as if she belonged. Even if she was nameless and forgotten she knew she still belonged there. She avoided saying this due to her audience but she felt it beat deep within her heart.

Catherine on her part liked what she heard and was enchanted, “That sounds charming! I shall keep it in mind and hopefully one day visit my new lands soon and see my new subjects. I’m sure you would like that yes?” She nodded, not really caring much in reality. “I’m also nothing if not generous to serf souls. You shall stay here for two weeks and then return back to the provinces. After that I’ll decide what your situation shall be, but Natasha make no mistake I fully intend to make a visit to you personally when I am free to. I’ll allow your Jesuit education to continue while you’re here as well in addition to the other things you’ll be instructed with.”

“Now,”she she said as she looked at Russia’s sister and Polina. “”Both of you shall help me in my toilet. Then you’re free to get dressed yourself here. Polina I want you to help Natasha first though.” There was nothing else to do, and Catherine was still in her shift, though at least her hair was made up and her make up done. Meanwhile Russia was still there and Catherine seemed to remember his presence since she looked at him and said, “Vanya you may stay too. Converse with me while Polina and your sister help me get ready.”

Russia nodded and said, “Yes Catherine.” And so they began speaking quietly among themselves while Polina and his sister helped put on Catherine’s petticoats, laced up her stays, and carefully put on her outer dress once Catherine pointed to the one that she wanted to wear. 

While this all was happening she watched Catherine and Russia curiously, and silently listened to what they said. It wasn’t of much interest to her, however what was of interest was the way Catherine’s eyelashes fluttered and her lips quirked up at things Russia said or how she stuck out her leg ever so slightly as she put on her snow white stocking, almost as if she was showing him the appendage. Meanwhile Russia, despite his own best efforts, blushed and his voice eve wavered at times. 

She wondered at this and once more felt a little lost and distant from her brother. He inhabited an entirely different world now and perhaps now he knew others better than her knew her. Likewise she wondered if perhaps she knew others like Lithuania better than she knew Russia now. The thought was discomforting, yet at the same time oddly assuring. She wasn’t Russian, she would never be Russian, much like she wasn’t Polish either. Perhaps she was something else entirely, but she didn’t think of that for long, rather the thought floated to the back of her mind to be picked up and examined years later.

Finally Catherine was fully dressed, she took a look in her large silver mirror, nodded approvingly, then said, “Polina dress up Natasha. You won’t have to every day but just for this first time want to see the doll get ready. Later when I tell you you shall get her ready for dance as well, but aside from that attend to your normal duties.” 

Polina nodded and then said to Russia’s sister, “Hold still,” which she did. She stood there staring blankly into space while Catherine watched and continued to converse with Russia. Meanwhile he was terribly awkward about the entire affair. 

Polina deftly put on a petticoat and quickly and skillfully laced up a stay on her thin torso. She found it snug and somewhat uncomfortable, but still tolerable and found she could no longer slouch in the stay as it kept her torso and back ramrod straight. Polina then tossed her some stockings, which were not as fine as Catherine’s but still of good quality. With no sense of modesty she hiked up her skirt and put them on in front of Russia while Catherine chortled at his flustered reaction and her brazenness. Finally her outer dress was put on, a plain but still pretty green frock with some light embroidery, and a pretty white apron to go over it. Her hair was already done up and since she was only a serf there was no need to powder it or put heavy make up onto her face, but she was thankful for that. She didn’t care for the popular fashions at all, while Catherine looked lovely they were not for her and not for her station in life.

When they were finally done and Polina, who dressed herself, was ready Catherine again nodded approvingly and said, “Natasha, you shall deal with spinning, sewing, and washing as I’ve said. Polina shall show you where everything is, and I’ll call you for lessons. You’ll get some free time later as well since I’m a rational woman. With that Polina and Russia’s sister, after being nudged, curtsied and excused themselves from Catherine’s presence.

And so the day passed with a sense of mundanty and she wondered at it all. It was only a month ago she had been in her homelands among her people. It was only a short time ago she had been amidst the forests, the fields, the swamps, and the towns both small and large, of her people. Yet none of them belonged to her and her alone and the fact that she could be snatched up like this at a moment's notice and put to work proved it. 

She and her people belonged to another. Once they had belonged to Poland and Lithuania and now? Now they belonged to Russia and to Catherine, and she did as well. Yet all of this was treated as if it was normal, the rest of the serfs and servants in the household made no acknowledgment of her. It was almost as if it was any other day and she herself acted as if it were any other day too for there was no need to make a needless fuss if this would be her life right now. She had seen what had happened to Poland when he resisted and she wanted no part in it. She knew with Poland’s pride and stubbornness that he would try again and again, but was that worth it? To allow more suffering, harm, and death to come to his people and to others, like her own people, she thought bitterly, for the sake of his own selfish pride? She thought not. 

She had been through so much already that perhaps keeping one’s head low was simply the best choice at this point, though the notion that she was still not Polish and not Russian crept in her mind like some animal waiting for it’s chance to spring. However as she spent hours spinning, embroidering, and weaving the fine lace, linen, and silk passing through her callused and scared fingers she wondered how long Russia would hold onto her this time. 

He had after all gotten and lost her many times before in only a small span of years, not enough time to fully know him again nor enough time to feel totally disconnected from the commonwealth. She wondered when Poland would try to snatch her up again and so allow this game of tug and war to continue yet again. 

However at the same time, she thought to herself, this time was also somewhat different. Russia had heavily entrenched himself into Poland’s affairs, something she had observed with some glee as she saw him fall apart. It was mostly out of a vindictive feeling as she felt it was what he deserved in a way. yet at the same time she heard Russia’s whispers that he was only defending her and her people. She half believed it and so said nothing but went about her daily tasks. By the time Russia was done with Poland he was a mess and Russia, Prussia, and Austria had taken pieces of him with a thinly veiled excuse of making peace, something she saw through easily. Again she said nothing and still Poland was now vulnerable, weak, and under russia’s shadow.

She wondered if he would ever recover from that and if he didn’t would that mean she belonged to Russia for good this time? The part of her that was sick of Poland felt relieved at that, but another part of her thought of Lithuania yet again and unwillingly her heart cried out silently when she thought she might not see his forest green eyes and his bark brown hair whenever she wished to. She remembered every time she had been resnatched by Poland from Russia how his green eyes sparkled with tenderness and love, how joyful he had looked and yet soon afterwards it seemed as if Poland tried and succeeded in snatching his attention away from her. In the end she was left alone and forgotten, nameless once more. 

She spat upon the ground in disgust shocking the other girls around her. She paid them no mind, she merely wanted Lithuania’s disgusting devotion out of her mind. It confused her and made her ache with feelings she did not know or understand. She didn’t wish to explore from whence these feelings came. It was a dangerous road. 

In the afternoon their work was over and after some food Russia came to fetch her. “Natalya, Catherine wishes to see you now.” Silently Belarus got up and followed after him as they both left the room and went to Catherine.

“What did she ask for?” she asked. 

“Dancing lessons and after that she said she might like to hear you sing. I shall be there too of course unless she says otherwise.” She was silent after that, but a few moments later Russia said, “Natalya, after she’s finished with you I should like to have tea with you. If you have any duties to do see to them first and then come to my bedchamber with the samovar.” As they were siblings it would not be improper, the only other woman other than her to see Russia’s bedchamber was Catherine and the maids who came to clean and air it out.

“As you wish Vanya,” was all she said, though she wondered why Russia wished to have tea with her. A part of her hoped he merely missed her and wanted some quality time with her. Another part of her however was sure there was an underlying motivation to this invitation. 

Finally they arrived. Russia opened the door and behind it was Catherine alongside another man that she had never seen before. “Oh good you’ve finally arrived,” Catherine said. “Natasha this is Domenico Angiolini he’ll be your dance instructor while you’re here.” 

Domenico bowed his head to her, then bowed at Russia and said, “But certainly she can’t dance in that.”

“ Of course not, Vanya call one of the maids and have her bring her things so that she can get dressed.’

“Ah, yes Catherine,” Russia said. Then he excused himself and left the room. He wondered as he went through the halls to get one one of the girls if Domenico would see his sister get dressed. The idea bothered him ,however he told himself that the man had no ill intent and that since the girl was only a serf, a territory, and he himself was present it didn’t matter. Besides Catherine would also be in the room so it would be alright and the girl herself seemed to show no signs of shame or propriety. Still despite his attempts to justify it to himself the idea nagged at his mind and troubled him. 

Meanwhile as they waited for Russia to return Dominico circled her once, nodding to himself. “What a pretty little thing,” he said to Catherine. “And you’re telling me she’s never learned how to dance ballet yes?”

Catherine nodded and said, “Exactly, and I thought you of all people in Piter would be the best one to teach her. She has this natural grace about her that I think simply has a good deal of potential and in looks she is a vision of loveliness.”

“Then that’s promising,” Dominico said. Finally he turned to Russia’s sister who was merely silent when all of this was occurring. “As you’ve ‘heard I’m Domenico Angiolini and you are?” 

Who was she? Again the question nagged at her, what was her name? How should she introduce herself? Moreover would this human man even comprehend her nature? There was a long pause and then she finally responded, “Ah, Natalya.” She didn’t say it was nice to meet him, because it wasn’t and she didn’t add her patronymic Vseslavevna because doing so in front of Catherine made her nervous. She remembered the insistence on Rurikovna, Rurik himself, and the people of the Rus and how Rurik united them. She wondered if Catherine might prefer her patronymic to be that, she was sure of it. In any case Catherine did not seem like a woman to anger. Natalya, here that was the only name she had. A name that wasn’t truly hers nor did it speak the truth of what she was. In essence she was a nameless being despite all the terms people used to refer to her. 

“Natalya is a lovely name and it is charming to meet you.” At that moment Russia returned with Maria following after him. Maria carried a mass of silk, stockings, petticoats as well as a pair of satin slippers with no heels. Russia’s sister looked at the clothing with some curiosity and a secret sense of admiration. What pretty light things, she had never really gotten a chance to wear such lovely things and the slippers were quite curious as well, having no heel on them.

Catherine turned to Domenico, “These are the latest styles in dance from France. I thought Natasha would look lovely in them so earlier I instructed Masha to get them for her. What do you think?”

Domenico smiled and nodded in approval, saying, “What a wonderful idea. Yes I too have seen these styles, what these lady dancers there have done is bold and ingenious. The likes of Marie Salle and the others are truly a sight to behold.” 

Catherine rubbed her chin and with a canny gaze at the girl before her said, “I wonder if a simple serf child can become just as good, we shall see.” Russia coughed awkwardly and said, “Ah, should I leave Catherine? Or do you wish me to stay?” He didn’t want to leave his sister with Domenico without his supervision but seeing her get undressed and dressed again would again be awkward. She however thought nothing of it and simply examined her nails out of boredom. 

“Stay of course Vanya. Masha, we can’t stand here all day. Help Natasha dress herself.” And so it began again. Her outer dress and shoes were slipped off as were her stockings. Instead fine silk stockings were slipped on her thin legs and on her thin body a series of far shorter and lighter petticoats and a far shorter outer dress which showed her ankles and reached about mid calf. The dress was made of silk and lace with a few fine jewels adorning it and colored a fine light blue color. Finally the heeless slippers were put on, themselves also the same blue color. 

At that moment she noticed they were almost the color of her dear flax flowers and her heart was glad at that. She longed for her beloved flowers and while this was no real substitute a reminder of them was enough to please her for now. 

She slipped on the shoes and stood there, for the first time wondering what might happen next. However she didn’t have to wonder long for the dance lessons soon began. As Russia and Catherine watched she listened and followed Domenico’s instructions, learning all the steps and positions she could as well as how to pose her body and adjust her posture. For some learning to dance might not be the most exciting thing, but she took to it quickly which pleased Dominico. He instructed her patiently but firmly, correcting any mistakes and praising what good he saw. 

By the time the lesson was over Dominico was quite pleased. It was clear she was a beginner but she had a certain grace, quick mind, good reflexes, and knack for learning that made her a natural at ballet. “She’s unpolished but for a first lesson she certainly shows a good deal of promise. I want to see you tomorrow, if it’s the tsarina’s desire of course,” he added looking at Catherine. 

Catherine smiled, nodded her head graciously and said, “Of course, I think so as well. I look forward to the day I can see her perform on stage in front of the court in a real ballet.” After a few more formalites Catherine said, “Natasha, you said you could sing. I hope that’s true since in a few minutes I’ve actually arranged for a group of us to hear you. You may stay dressed as you are.”

This was rather short notice, she thought in more vulgar terms, but her face remained impassive. She knew there was nothing she could do, Catherine’s word was law. “Come along,” Catherine said as she took her hand and then she said to Domenico, “You’ve done your part well. You’re dismissed for the day, or you could join us for the songs.” 

Dominico smiled and said, “I do have somewhere to be, but not right away so I think I shall join you all for a small while. I am curious to hear the girl’s voice.”

“Good, I’m glad. It shall be more fun with more of a crowd I should think.” And so she lead the group off to another one of the rooms while Dominico and Russia followed after her. As they walked she heard the two talk in slightly quiet voices, but still loud enough to be audible by Catherine and herself. “So this is your sister? Younger?” 

Russia paused, but only for a second so that only his sister noticed and said, “Yes younger. We’ve been apart for quite some time. I am glad to have her home where she rightfully belongs.” 

Her stomach felt slightly sick at that but she didn’t know why. She didn’t want to think about it either. That was useless. Regardless her home wasn’t here, it was in the lands she had frequented where her Slavic people were, where they tilled and worked the land and forged for food. Where the lakes, rivers, swamps. and forests were. Where the stork and eagles flew and the wisents roamed. 

However Russia was Slavic too, what separated her people’s from Russia’s? What separated her people’s from Poland’s? In her more vulnerable moments in the dead of the night she was never quite so sure. What did it matter too when the land her people dwelt on and therefore their very souls always belonged to someone else and had been since the end of Polotsk. She belonged to Lithuania or Poland or Russia but not herself. Even her soul had not been her own in a very long long time and she doubted that it would ever be so again. 

She had stated to gaze vacantly into nothing, losing track of space and time. She felt she was adrift from her body and was so disconnected from her surroundings that it seemed that in only five seconds she was in the new room. This one was colored a lovely blue color and adorned with more paintings and golden gilt and by the time she came to, there was a group of chattering women and men all dressed elegantly sitting on cushioned chairs and sofas. However their shoes were off and placed haphazardly everywhere and their white stockinged feet lounged on the ground, rested on sofas, or lazed about on the headrests of chairs in front of them as they chattered like bright glittering birds.

All of them looked very happy and delightful, except for Russia who looked rather tired and even a little awkward as he kept to Catherine’s side. He was almost like a schoolboy made to go to a party when he’d much rather stay home. Catherine however held his hand and gave it a quick pat as she turned to him and smiled. Then she spoke up again, “Natasha what are you waiting for, sing! You do know the song playing do you not? If you don’t simply follow the melody on the harpischrd, it shall be amusing.”

At that moment she noticed the young man sitting at the harpsichord staring at her and waiting for her to be ready to sing so he could play it again. “Of course she knows it she’s a serf, they all know these amusing little songs,” said one of the men with a laugh and he threw her a wink. She glared for a moment but did nothing else, and Russia glared longer but also did nothing.

After a moment’s silence she said “I don’t know it.” 

However before anyone could react the young man playing the harpsichord gave her a sheet and said, “We have the music right here. It’s a popular Russian folk song and easy to sing, so you’ll be alright.” 

Now this young man fancied himself the protagonist of a book and was currently looking for his lady love, the heroine of his novel so to speak. He liked to think at this moment that the being before him was that lady. However she was not and thought nothing of him as she took the sheet, feeling neither gratitude nor embarrassment. She said no word of thanks either, but that did not discourage him whatsoever, it simply heighted her mystery. Russia noticed the way he looked at her and kept a wary eye on him. He did not like that look in his eyes.

His sister was lost in her own little world as she looked over the lyrics only awakening to this plane of existence one she heard the harpsichord begin to play. She sang the Russian words with a strong, melodic, yet unsure voice as this was her first time singing the song. Still she was never one to give up on a task so she sung it all the way though. Once she was done she simply stood there, her arms hanging limp by her side.

The nobles twittered along themselves and then clapped while laughing. “The little bird sang well for her first time,” said one of the men. 

Catherine nodded clearly agreeing, “Natasha is so talented. Vanya you should be proud. Natasha dear!” she said, finally speaking to her. “Since you did so well I’ll be kind and grant you a grace. Sing us one song you have heard of, it can be any song.”

She paused for a moment, feeling unsure of this request and if she even wanted to fulfill it. Suddenly she felt a little ridiculous standing there in front a group of bejeweled nobles and a young queen with her brother looking annoyed and uncomfortable and her in a pretty fluffy looking dress, more extravagant than any she had in a long time. 

However in the end she decided to accept and said, “Very well tsarina. It’s a harvest song I’ve heard and sung many times.” She had no land so it was not from her land despite this, and while she had a people neither they nor she was truly sure of who she was. Even so she sang in a kind of Ruthenian which had no name, and her was voice clear and melodic, both sweet and harsh depending on the note and tone used. In that moment she was transported to her home. It was late summer and the rye fields were ready for the harvest. New wheat would be stored for the upcoming winter and black rough bread would be baked for the survival of all. It all continued another year being filled with life and eating from the fruits of the cruel earth’s bounty, this year willing to bless instead of curse.

Finally she was done, and everyone clapped once more, though Russia had a thoughtful look on his face which she could not read and she wondered what it meant. “What a lovely quaint song,” Catherine said and many of the others murmured in agreement. “You make a fine singer, Tomorrow and as long as you're here I’ll have you further trained in singing as well as teach you some Russian, French, and perhaps even some Florentine, Neapolitan, or Milanese songs. We shall see. However for now Natasha you’re dismissed. Help Polina freshen up my bedchamber and when you’re done you can retire.”

She nodded but before she left Russia said, “After you’re done I wish to speak with you and perhaps have some tea, so wait in my room. Remember that.” She wondered why, but no one else seemed to care and they were already starting to converse among themselves, so she left. 

The young man watched her leave, a few moments later he then excused himself by saying, “I need to take a piss,” and left. Everyone let him go and minded their own business having too much fun wrapped up in their own affairs to care otherwise and not take him at his word. Russia however followed him with his eyes and then excused himself a short while later saying he had a headache. After Catherine placed a slightly tipsy kiss to his cheek he flushed and grew flustered but then left anyways, looking for the young man. 

She and Polina had just finished with Catherine’s room and Polina had left for her own room, leaving her alone since Polina assumed she could make her own way back. Belarus wasn’t worried however because Polina guessed rightly and despite her dreamy and half there demeanor she did remember the way back. 

Catherine’s room was beautiful, she thought, as she looked around but it was not for her. It was far too big and far too grand for her to feel comfortable in it and so she decided to quickly leave before Catherine returned, making sure she shut the door after she left. She almost looked forward to going to her room for only then could she finally change out of her clothing.

However before she could make it back she felt a hand on her arm and turned around rapidly. With a look of mild disgust she saw that it was not Russia or one of the servants but the young man from before. “I’m sorry if I startled you, I wanted to see you again. Your name is Natalya Rurikovna, right?”

“That’s what they call me,” she said. That wasn’t her real name though, she thought, she was nameless. Perhaps that meant she was nothing, she was no longer sure. She just knew she was not Polish, she was not Russian, and that was that.

“It’s a lovely name,” the man said.

“So it’s been said,”she uttered dully yet again. A hand carelessly crept up her arm and he spoke once more while one of her hands tightened into a fist. “Ever since I saw you and since you sang Í’ve been enchanted with you. You’re like a fairy in that beautiful dress, more lively than Aphrodite herself. Surely you can’t refuse to speak with me back in my rooms.” 

She had guessed he was nobility by the brazen and thoughtless way he acted and treated her and she was right. Instead of contemplating her choices and their possible consequences as she usually did she quickly snapped and said, “Get your goddamn hand off of me,” and gave him a venomous glare, though it was not as harsh as it had the potential to be. 

He was spared from more when a large and heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Anatol Ivanovich,” Russia said. “What are you doing? You do know that she belongs to me and the tsarina, not to you. Simply using Natalya as you wish will not sit well with her. How rude, you could have at least asked for permission to have her.” His words were polite, but his tone was dark and heavy and his hand had a heavy weight on the young man’s shoulder as Russia gave a few threatening squeezes.

“Nothing,” the young man stammered. “I wasn’t doing anything. forgive me Ivan Rurikovitch, you make such wonderful sensible points. I was merely...complimenting her on a job well done. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

Russia let go over the young man’s shoulder and simply said, “You’re excused. However I should hope I don’t tell the tsarina. Keep in mind that this never happens again, you know how she takes care of her serfs and hates others meddling with them without her permission.” The young man nodded and went away, leaving more quickly once he had reached a good distance and thought they might not notice, they did.

After he left Russia said, “I haven’t decided if I should tell Catherine yet or not. Did he do anything?” And as he said this he took a hold of her arm, then her chin, examining them both as if he was looking over a doll or a damaged chair. 

“It’s fine Vanya. He did nothing.”

Russia, feeling satisfied with this simple statement nodded and said, “”Then let us go to my room. Follow me, you can undress in your own room once we’ve had our tea. It might take too much time otherwise.”

“As you wish,” she said and followed after him. 

The room was already lit with various candles awaiting them. For the first time she noticed they were the fancy kind of candle, at least they did not smell and smoke, and they gave off a decent amount of light. Russia truly did live in the lap of luxury, but she wondered about his connection with the land and his people once more. Wouldn’t it be painful and frustrating to be seperated from them? It was something she did not dare to ask. 

On a small table in front of two red chairs was a samovar and two cups along with two containers of presumably sugar and jelly. For food there was a simple hunk of bread and cheese, but the bread was white and not black or brown unlike what she was used to. However food was food and she simply did not care as long as it was edible.

Russia motioned to her to sit down, so she did and he followed after her. “Natalya,” he said, “the reason I wished to speak with you alone is simply because it has been so long since we spent time together and spoken hasn’t it? No thanks to Poland, that little ingrate.” His tone took a bitter darker tone then which she felt some satisfaction at. “”After all how dare he help split the lands of Rus. Finally Natalya you’re here with me and a part of my lands. You’re safe and where you belong.”

This however in contrast made her feel slightly uneasy, but she merely said, “Yes Vanya,” and after a pause added, “That Poland is a fucking asshole. He’s ruined my life enough already.” 

Russia nodded approvingly. “Why am I not surprised? Oh, perhaps because he has attempted to do the same thing to me. You only know this too well Natalya, we have so many things in common that connect us. Like glue it is an indissolvable inseparable bond. I’ve told your sister this many times as well, she seems more hesitant to agree however…” His words were calculated and exact, for he was waiting to gauge her566r5t response, to see if she needed to be dealt with or if she could be left alone to her own devices for the moment. “Speak with me frankly Natalya, has Poland had any undue influence on you?”

She poured some tea for herself and Russia after she saw that he was clearly waiting for her to do so. Then she put some jam in her own and stirred the amber drink slowly before taking a sip. “Sister has always been a fucking trouble maker. I’ve seen her cause headaches for those shitbags in the commonwealth many times. She has a strong but foolish spirit. She must be more pragmatic in the future I should think.” She paused once more after taking another sip and said, “It makes me happy you care so much for me Vanya.”

However she didn’t know if he did, rather she wanted to make a statement, an assumption of him he could not back out of. “...He has tried to, but I have resisted mostly. I’m not fluent in Polish, but some words have slipped in. There have been other ways as well but if anyone called me Polish I would give them a goddan slit over the throat as a warning.” It was half truth half lies, she did know Polish. She spoke and understood it fluently but surely Russia would not find out. The truth was some Polish aspects had influenced her Ruthenian and now she was unsure if it could even be called that anymore. She failed to mention other aspects and ways she had been influenced by both him and Lithuania too, she decided to continue to fail to do so. 

“Wonderful, I’m pleased you’ve kept to your Slavic roots and not forgotten your ties to the Rurik line. It would be such a pity if you did, I would not even be able to call you a sister then,” Russia said. 

For the first time her heart fluttered a little in fright at the prospect. For such a thing to happen Poland would of had to change her and her people so much that perhaps there might be nothing left of the old her. However she wasn’t sure how much of the old her was even left at the same time. She certainly was no longer the same Polotsk. The fact remained is that she did not know who she was, only who she was not. “I would never let that happen Vanya.”

He took a sip of his own tea after mixing it and then said, “There is the matter of your religion however. You are Catholic now are you not?”

“Not Roman,” she said. “It’s a different rite, it’s a little like the Orthodox. The Unitate rite. As I said Vanya no matter how hard the fucker tried I would never let Poland influence me so much.”

Russia contemplated this response and simply said, “I shall ask your Jesuits about this later then. However Catherine as you know knows this as well and she’s permitted you to stay as you are. Speaking of Catherine how did you like her?” Once again this was far more than just a friendly question. Russia was gauging her response and seeing if it was an adequate one and pleasing to him, or if it marked subversiveness and possible problems in the future.

Her face remained blank and she took another sip. “She is a lovely woman Vanya. She seems kind and gracious as well as good humored and is quite pretty. You’re lucky to have such a ruler.” She failed to mention the times she had seen Catherine make Russia blush and grow flustered but they weighed on her mind and she was terribly curious. She decided that she must suffer in her curiosity for it would be far too bold to ask. 

Russia meanwhile smiled softly, approving of her response and then said, “And now she is our ruler. I suppose we both are very lucky.”

“Of course Vanya,” was all she said. 

They talked late into the night over various other matters such as music and poetry Russia was fond of, as well as dipping into folklore during the latter part of the night while each weighted their responses carefully like some intricate dance.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning dawned bright and early and so did the next morning after it, and the next, and life continued onward as it always did. She adjusted to her life at the Catherine Palace spinning, weaving, and sewing garments with skill and talent on some days and on a few days of the week receiving dancing, singing, and French lessons. She was also educated by several Jesuit priests on those days too about various sundry subjects when she was sent into St Petersburg accompanied by Russia himself or one of the other nobles.

Yet still despite settling in she wondered when she would return to her homeland and every day around the setting of the sun she would stare towards the west and long for her swamps, forests, and wisents and long for the cry of the stork flying overhead the grey sky. As the season grew late and the nights grew long she longed for this more and more.

Two months later Catherine called Russia’s before her and said, “You’ve stayed here two months and made excellent progress, all things considering. So for now I’ve decided to send you back to where you came from. Be aware Natasha that in the future one day soon I shall call you back to finish your education. Oh and you’re to continue studying with the Jesuits as well, keep that in mind.” There was a pause and with a small smile on her lips as she said, “Be aware as well that I have plans to visit you sometime in the future. I shall remember the hospitality I treated you with and I shall expect the same in return Natasha.” 

There was no question in her mind that Catherine would follow though, and so she kept that stored in her heart in preparation for the day she would arrive. Despite that though she felt a rare sense of joy and elation, a feeling in the midst of her soul telling her that she would be back in the place that her spirit resided, the place where she was meant to be. She had tired of St Petersburg and now felt like a wild bird in a gilded cage. “As you wish tsarina, but when shall I return?” 

Catherine thought for a moment and said, “In three days. That seems practical,”and so three days it was.

 

In that exact time she was ready, and so was Russia, for like her arrival he would accompany her return as well. It was now his Empire after all and all these were his lands, including the lands in which her people resided in. They were part of him and she in turn was now part of him and belonged to him as well. She knew it and accepted it.

It was time to leave and she had cast off her western servant’s dresses and replaced them with her checkered dress and plain white blouse with red embroidery. The small bustle and firm stays were gone only to be replaced by her woolen skirt and baggy linen blouse lying over a plain linen shift ad a white petticoat. Gone were the fine stockings only to be replaced by by wool ones in preparation for the colder fall. She felt more at ease and comfortable now and not simply due to the materials These were her clothes, the clothing that her people in the countryside wore as they lived and worked and died. So she wore them too alongside with them as she felt their sufferings and joys, their toils and labor, the ebb and flow of life and death in her spirit. They were all one with her and a part of her.

There was no need for a post-chase now, as since all lands were Russian he could go wherever he wished. So they left the palace and all of a sudden were back in the westernmost part of the empire, back to where her people remained. They were standing there amidst a flat land of rye and grass with the vast blue sky before then and the sun shining faintly overheard, its weak lighting basking them in a quiet warmth. The rye waved gently in the slight wind and the trees in the distance glinted golden, yellow, and red. They had been green last she was here and she marveled in her soul how quickly things changed and how quickly mortal life passed from season to season as life ebbed away from all living things. There was a slight chill i the air and she was thankful for her woolen stockings and skirt.

Russia broke the silence, “Do you like it here?” 

She looked around and said, “Yes, yes I do. I feel close to nature and filled with it out in the outskirts here. It’s always been around me, in some way or another Vanya.” She avoided saying her people, for she did not know how Russia would react to that. To him, they were all Russian she was sure, and so was she as well. “Vanya, how the hell do you feel about the countryside? Or do you prefer the cities and palaces of your land? When we were children I remember when shit was calm and we weren’t fighting that we used to run in the woods together and see all kinds of beautiful shit and terrible shit too of course, such is life. But you’ve been in cities for so long, so I wondered. Forgive me Vanya if I speak out of turn.” Did he miss it? She wondered at that but again did not dare to ask. 

Russia did miss it though, but never dared to speak his thoughts. He did not live for himself after all and his rulers demanded he stay with them, so he did and lived thusly. However in his heart was always the yearning and desire for the countryside, the serfs made up most of who he was, despite his surroundings. The two had things in common, though they knew it not. As he contemplated the nature around him he said, “It has sentiment to me Natalya, after all it is a part of me. Perhaps next time I shall convince Catherine to take us to the countryside as long as she’s not busy. We can stroll around and go hunting and find ourselves content in the natural world. I must admit sometimes my heart does yearn for it, not that I wish to be anything but loyal to Catherine. I serve her and my people after all and she serves them as well.”

“Of course Vanya, I should like that very much and I shall not forget that promise,” she said, feeling satisfied with that response. She felt that that showed that the natural world, the forests, the tundra, the fields, they all still had a place in Russia’s heart and perhaps he was not as changed as she had thought. Even so still felt the imbalance of power between them as well as the years and shifts in culture and change in people between them as well. He ruled over her with an iron fist now and try as she might deny it, Poland had forever changed her and her people.

Russia signed and turned around, saying, “I shall go now, but keep in mind I shall return soon and am keeping an eye on you.” She nodded and with that he was gone. Now it was only her in the fields but Russia was all around her now as he owned everything, the land, her people, her self, all those souls, all those serfs. Yet despite that she felt a little free as the wind blew her flax blonde hair in the wind and whipped around her checkered skirts. Hearing the cry of snow white storks in the distance she began walking towards the nearest village, feeling the soil and plants beneath her feet growing alive and free and wild. St Petersburg was lovely, she thought, and so was the Catherine Palace, but there was nothing at all like the green and golden woods, the jewel blue lakes, and the flat rich moist bogs of her land. Lastly and most importantly there was her people with their good and honest faces and work worn hands and bent backs burnt by toil and hard honest labor, living their lives placidly. It was here she felt alive and it was here God resided and meant for her to reside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life in the commonwealth was not wholly idyllic as there were numerous conflicts with other states such as Sweden and Russia. Internal conflict also weakened the state as well as interference by other nations like Russia and Prussia. This culminated in the puppet ruler, the Polish king Stanislaw August Poniatowski, Catherine’s former lover, as well as Russia meddling in much of the commonwealth's governance and affairs and Prussia taking steps to destabilize it as well. In the end all this conflict and chaos caused Russia and Prussia and later Austria to use it as an excuse to partition the commonwealth over a series of decades. 
> 
> During this time Catherine the Great, who came from Prussia, was tsarina of Russia. She saw herself as an enlightened despot and greatly valued culture, art, and learning. She actually did visit the territory of modern day Belarus a few years later as well and various Russian nobles had estates there. 
> 
> In the Russian empire serfs had few rights and were in essence owned by the nobles or state and bonded to the land. however in 1775 Catherine attempted to introduce laws that called for prosecution of cruel treatment of them. Some nobles made serfs act, dance, and sing for them. Particularly cruel owners would beat serfs at times or freely sleep with them whenever it pleased them. Sometimes this was consensual, other times it was not.
> 
> In terms of the clothing, or corsets, or as they were called in this century, stays, were not necessarily restricting or health damaging. How tight they were laced was up to the woman, in addition to that they also served to shape the body, provide good clothing fit, and provide good posture. In the 1700’s the goal of the stay was not a small wasp waist but a cylinder shape and breasts that were flattened and lifted high. For most women such shapewear was normal and would not be too uncomfortable since they would of worn such things most of their lives. However stays became popular in Russia during the 1700’s due to French influence. Petticoats and small bustles sitting on the hips made of cork or cloth provided shape to the skirt. In Catherine’s court servants could also wear only green, red, or blue. Silver and gold were not allowed colors. 
> 
> In the late 1700’s in the world of ballet shorter skirts that were ankle length and heelless shoes first became popular in France due to the influences of famous French ballerinas like Marie Salle. This trend continued later on. In terms of Russia often French and Italian ballet masters would go over there to teach and perform. Domenico Angiolini was one of these Italian masters who served at Catherine’s court during the time period of the fic.
> 
> Wisents, storks, and blue flax flowers are all important symbols of Belarus and are naturally in the area which is a flat land filled with forests and bogs.

**Author's Note:**

> Belarus is only 15 years old in this fic and is not called Belarus, as that name did not exist at that time. Some called the Slavic peoples in that land, with their odd mix of eastern and western culture, Ruthenians. However one name they seem to have called themselves was Tuteishya. Which meant simply ‘the locals.’ Also in this fic she is not in love with Russia as of yet, as I personally headcanon her to have fallen in love with him during the 1930’s and then that love intensified during the late 90’s and early 2000’s.
> 
> Her real patronym Vseslavovna is a reference to Vseslav the sorcerer who was a powerful ruler of Polotsk in 1039 and is an important figure in Belarus. Rurikovna refers to Rurik the founder of the Rurik dynasty of Kievan Rus and a chieftain of the Rus people.
> 
> This fic is set in 1772 right after the first Polish Partition. At this time the nation now known as Belarus did not exist, yet despite that there was still a Slavic people there that had their own unique culture in development and a people whose history can be tied to the Principality of Polotsk in the 800’s, a early Slavic state that was sometimes united with Kievan Rus and sometimes fought against it. In 1240 this state was taken over by the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and soon afterwards subety exerted a good deal of influence on it, making the official court language Ruthenian and raising the possibility that the state would officially become Orthodox Christian which the Ruthenians were unlike the pagan Baltics. However in the year 1386 the Union of Krelow occured and Poland and lithuania established a dynasty union and and Lithuania became officially Roman Catholic. Then in 1569 the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was established. After this Ruthenian slowly ceased to be the official language of the court and was instead replaced by Polish. Polish culture also took over, leading some ethnic Ruthenians to slowly see themselves as Polish and become Polonized. This also happened to some who saw themselves as Lithuanian or Litvin instead Most of the Ruthenians who saw themselves thus were the intellectuals and wealthy/upper class of commonwealth while the peasantry still largely saw themselves as slavic at the very least. 
> 
> In 1595 the Union of Brest ocored, which was when the Ruthenean Orthodox Church broke with the rest of the Eastern Orthodox Church and united itself under the Pope in Rome and the Catholic Church. However despite this some Ruthenians still remained Orthodox, however a large amount did become Unitiate or Greek Catholic. In the territory of Belarus there were also a large amount of Jesuits during the Commonwealth. There was even a Jesuit college established in 1580 and it existed until the 1800’s. After the partition this remained the case despite Russia being officially Orthodox. In fact, Catherine even permitted the Jesuits to stay despite the suppression of their order in 1773, allowing it to continue to exist and flourish and survive the suppression. Polotsk became the intellectual center of the Jesuit order.
> 
> Notes are continued in the final chapter


End file.
